


Invictus

by ryulabird



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Eventual Smut, Grim Reapers, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-14 01:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14124846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryulabird/pseuds/ryulabird
Summary: Harry is very tired of being the Master of Death, but he didn't get to choose that path in the first place, so of course he can't choose to walk away from it.Because straight is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leads unto life, and few are there that find it.





	1. Out of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how this happened. I swear I was working on other fics when this one kinda possessed me and shoved everything else in my brain out. I'm close to twenty thousand words and I STILL DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED. Probably due to the recent manga updates though.
> 
> Anywho... let me know what you guys think! Reviews give me energy, and after this whirlwind, I really need it~!

 

* * *

 

 

“Please remove your feet from my desk,” a monotonous voice coldly asked.

 

Harry cracked an eye open to find William T. Spears, Management Grim Reaper and worst stick in the mud he’d ever met, had returned from whatever he’d been doing. 

 

“I got bored without your sunny aura,” Harry said with a yawn. He stretched in his chair and pointedly did not move his feet at all. He’d been stuck with the universe’s dullest desk jockey of the dead for almost a year and he was already fed up enough to be petty.

 

William sighed and simply turned to sit in his own chair at the desk, apparently willing to try and work around Harry’s feet without further confrontation. God, he was boring.

 

“So, what bureaucratic nonsense in the cycle of death are you working on today?” Harry asked dully. Signing off on completed lifeline reviewals, soul retrievals, and reaper reports. Those were the only things any of the Grim Reapers in the Management Division did-- which was probably why they’d been designated his babysitters the moment he showed up. The Master of Death couldn’t get into any trouble with the pencil-pushers after all.

 

There was silence for a minute-- William didn't like talking while he worked-- but eventually he answered.

 

“There have been deaths occurring before their designated times in the List,” he admitted. “I have been tasked with comparing their new times and the locations to find any possible pattern.”

 

“Oh?” Harry perked up. That wasn’t something he’d heard of before. As far as he’d ever known, everyone died when they died and there was nothing anyone could do to change that. Except now something was changing it, something was messing with fate. Interesting.

 

“What could be causing it?” Harry asked, sitting up and finally moving his feet off the desk. William glanced up at him and adjusted his glasses, unimpressed. But Harry waited, and eventually William sighed again and answered.

 

“There could be any number of causes,” he said, tone gaining the first strains of annoyance. “Someone could be slacking off on the job, humans could have found some artifact allowing them to alter individual destinies, or some interloper is out there making trouble.”

 

So… Grim Reapers, something magic, or…what would an ‘interloper’ be? 

 

Harry sat up and pulled his chair closer to William’s with a grin. The Reaper ignored him and focused on the folder of papers he had open before him. Harry glanced at it briefly, a few pictures and dense text with notes and red scratches, then went back to watching William.

 

He had to hand it to the Reaper, William had an incredible amount of patience to be able to put up with Harry over the past year. But that had been when Harry was simply bored and didn’t have anything to do. Now, with something potentially interesting happening, the stoic Reaper had to deal with a Harry who was actively  _ trying _ to annoy him. 

 

He never stood a chance. Two days later, they were in the world of the living.

 

“I can’t believe I am being forced to do extra work,  _ outside my division _ , solely for the sake of your childish whimsy,” William muttered to himself as he walked.

 

Harry watched him, eyebrows rising higher with every grouse and gripe the Reaper made. He had finally annoyed William to the point of actually complaining about it, and all it took was getting them both “assigned” to a little on-site investigating. Not that Harry was under any illusion that was what they were actually doing.

 

No, another Reaper already in the area was actually investigating. William, and by proxy Harry, were going to briefly observe and offer assistance if necessary. It was very unlikely it would be necessary, the Grim Reaper Management Division were simply trying to appease Harry and get him out of everyone's hair for a few hours. They were just going to meet-up with the investigating Reaper while he was collecting a designated soul, and then they were going to head back.

 

A short, pretend assignment to make Harry feel like he was doing something so he’d shut up and leave everyone alone. Except for William of course, who, as the main assigned babysitter, got the dubious duty of going with Harry on his outing, and who was clearly angry at all the extra work he was having to do because of it.

 

“It is not as though you have any business distracting the office and taking up space on my desk,” William continued. “But if the higher-ups were going to allow you to wander outside, they should simply have sent you to the Retrieval Division in the first place, made you their headache.”

 

Harry wasn’t sure if he was insulted or impressed. William had been complaining for the better part of an hour now, and entirely about him. He had the feeling the Reaper was finally voicing a whole litany of grievances collected since Harry had first been dumped in his lap. Who knew dragging the Reaper away from his desk would be the final straw?

 

“It’s not like we’re even doing anything much,” Harry said when the Reaper paused for breath.

 

William shot him a very nasty look. It seemed simply having to leave the Grim Reaper Headquarters was too much work. Harry sighed.

 

“Well, maybe when we get back you can ask to have me transferred to someone else?”

 

William hummed under his breath and turned forward. That seemed to be an appealing thought because he didn’t make any more complaints after that. Harry wondered why it hadn’t occurred to him as an option before. Although, the Management Division was pretty understaffed from what he’d seen, and the other Divisions involved a lot more running around which no one seemed to want him to do.

 

He was about to tease William about the chances of him actually being passed off to someone else when a shrill scream tore through the air. Both of them froze. Harry knew they were heading toward where the investigating Reaper was supposed to be, which meant they were heading toward some poor soul’s scheduled death. He hadn’t actually considered it would be a murder though.

 

“Wait here,” William said shortly. Then he leaped up to the rooftops and disappeared. 

 

Harry stared up at the shadows of the roof where he’d vanished then looked down at the street. He hadn’t actually bothered looking around when they arrived in the living world, too distracted by William’s rather impressive tirade, but now he found himself curious.

 

It looked like a slum, and possibly a medieval one. Except, no, the brick buildings and shingles looked more industrial, and the street lamps looked like gas lamps so...1800s? 1900s? When were gas lamps commonplace again? Couldn’t have been the 1700s, and Harry knew for sure that electricity took over around 1940...30? Was that right? But the street was cobblestone, with pavers on the sides…when were those replaced with concrete? Or was it the other way around….

 

Shoot. It was difficult to keep track of societal advances when they happened differently in different worlds. Guessing centuries was often the best he could do, and some worlds were so radically different that even such a vague estimate wasn’t a perfect method. So he was somewhere in London in the nineteenth century. Probably.

 

Harry shrugged and kept walking. It didn’t really matter in the end. He’d been everywhere and when at some point, and if he hadn’t, he would eventually. 

 

He only had to walk a block or so before he reached an alley, and this was where he was fairly certain they were supposed to meet the investigating Reaper. Why? Well, because there was a Grim Reaper in the alley, and he’d just stabbed someone with a chainsaw.

 

Harry stared, for once in a long time rather shocked. He watched a woman in red fall in a fountain of blood. He watched the Reaper derisively yank a red coat off her and turn to walk toward him. He watched the Cinematic Reel of the woman spill out of her and fly through the air.

 

The Reaper, with long red hair and now wearing the woman’s coat, only walked a few steps toward the entrance of the alley before seeing him, and stopping. Harry barely saw him, eyes fixed feverishly on the dying woman.

 

The only thing going through his head was that the woman dying was not supposed to. The Reaper had killed someone not on the List.

 

“Oh my, oh my,” the red haired Reaper cooed. “Is this a lost little lamb wandering into a slaughterhouse?” He winked at Harry coyly behind red flat topped reading glasses. “Better run boy, or the monsters might get ya!”

 

Harry glared at him. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarled.

 

The Reaper jerked back in shock. He didn’t have a chance to retort though, before Harry shoved past him and ran towards the woman. Closer up, he realized there was a boy and a man standing in the alley as well, still mesmerized by the Cinematic Reel. Great, this was going to be a headache indeed for the Grim Reaper Divisions. They’d probably take it as proof that Harry was nothing but trouble and shouldn’t be allowed outside ever again.

 

He’d deal with that later though.

 

The second he was close enough, Harry reached up and grabbed the Cinematic Reel as it whirled by and yanked hard. The whole thing froze and started to glow, brighter and brighter, still trying to show the life it recorded. Harry didn’t let it. He yanked again and kneeled down by the woman and shoved the fistful of blinding, burning Records into her chest. 

 

Everything happened at once. The boy and the man in the alley both shouted and flinched back, the red haired Reaper shouted and ran toward him demanding he stop, William dropped into the alley from above and tried to grab him and drag him away from the woman, and the woman…. She screamed.

 

The Cinematic Reel burned brighter than a star and spun back into her, almost too fast to see the glowing heart of her soul being pulled along with it, back into the woman’s torn up body, and she screamed and screamed and screamed. 

 

Harry held on through it all, pressing his hands to her chest, sticky and warm with blood, trying to keep her Reel, her soul, and then her blood from rushing back out. When it felt like the soul at least had resettled, Harry started murmuring what healing spells he could remember and hoped it would be enough for the mess that was her chest. Her flesh stitched back together, but her clothes were still tattered, and her blood still stained everything around her, including him now.

 

At some point, he realized the woman had stopped screaming because she had passed out, but she was alive and would stay that way until her proper time. Everyone else in the alley had likewise fallen silent, though that seemed to be either from horror or shock. The boy and man would have to have their memories altered-- or not, Harry didn’t actually know how Reapers dealt with mortal notice. 

 

Speaking of Reapers though… Harry turned around to find both of them just staring at him. William seemed to be getting a headache, judging by his frown, and the redhead appeared to be in a state of absolute shock, though he looked like he might start screaming at any moment.

 

“How did y-” the boy started to say when--

 

“WHAT THE HELL ROOKIE!?” Yep. The redhead finally exploded.

 

Harry sighed tiredly, then, after making sure the woman really was healed enough to survive without his help, stood up and calmly faced the two angry Reapers.

 

“What the hell did you think  _ you _ were doing?” he asked again, stepping forward into the redhead’s space and glaring for all he was worth. “That woman,” he pointed behind him, “is  _ not _ on the List tonight. What the fuck did you think you were doing?”

 

The redhead sputtered at him in confusion. William sighed and started rubbing his eyes under his glasses. The redhead turned to him quickly.

 

“Will! Help me out here!”

 

Harry frowned and crossed his arms, waiting to see what William-by-the-book-no-fun-ever would do. Surprisingly, he turned to his fellow Reaper and joined Harry in questioning him.

 

“You know you aren’t supposed to collect souls not on the List,” William said gravely.

 

“Hey!” the redhead sputtered and started waving his arms around frantically. “What about bringing the dead back to life? Huh? No one gets a second chance!”

 

“No one’s supposed to have their chance stolen by a neutral judge either,” Harry said flatly.

 

The redhead turned to him, face turning as red as his hair. “You! Y-y-you  _ rookie!  _ Don’t try and tell me the rules! I’m a fully fledged Retrieval Officer!” He crossed his arms and leaned forward into Harry, clearly trying to intimidate him. “Don’t act all high and mighty just because you got assigned as Will’s partner while I was on assignment!”

 

As the Reaper’s shrill words echoed through the alley, Harry and everyone else were struck dumb. Silence stretched awkwardly as everyone stared at the fuming Reaper. 

 

“Partner?” Harry finally repeated blankly. William sighed so tiredly it would have made Harry feel guilty, but he was pretty sure the sigh was more for the other Reaper than him. Probably.

 

“Are all Grim Reapers this incompetent?” a snide voice called out suddenly. 

 

Harry glanced behind him to see the boy kneeling beside the woman, glaring at him and the Reapers like he wanted them to catch on fire. The man was standing beside him, and only now did Harry see he looked like he’d been sliced up with the redhead’s chainsaw as well. He was also incredibly handsome, and staring at Harry with a scary amount of focus.

 

“I don’t know,” Harry said slowly. He turned back to William and the redhead. “Are you?”

 

“Y-you!” The redhead Reaper sputtered and brought his chainsaw up to wave in Harry’s face. “You’re the only incompetent one here!”

 

“Am I?” Harry drawled. He had a feeling he knew what the redhead was thinking now, and it was hilarious. William looked like his headache was growing.

 

The redhead Reaper shrieked and swung his chainsaw. Before it could slice into Harry though, William brought his own weapon, an extending hedge clipper, up to block it. It may have been a toss up which-- the hedge clippers or the chainsaw-- was a more ridiculous form for a Death Scythe, but in terms of sharpness and indestructibility, they were evenly matched. 

 

A shower of burning sparks flew up from the blades meeting, but Harry wasn’t cut in half. Not that he had expected to be. 

 

“Will!” the redhead whined and then was knocked off his feet when William used his moment of inattention to sweep backwards with his clipper staff. Harry couldn’t help but whistle at how far he flew.

 

William adjusted his glasses and stepped up beside Harry. He seemed to be glaring at the boy and the man. Harry turned to look at them, not sure what he expected. If he didn’t know better, he’d think William was being protective.

 

“I shall have to apologize on behalf of my colleague,” William said stiffly. “It would seem he has been responsible for a great deal of trouble recently.”

 

“Trouble recently?” Harry repeated incredulously. “Is that a joke?”

 

William glared at him from the corner of his eye. The handsome man snorted and brought a hand up to his chin with a smirk.

 

“Well, well, who knew any of your number would be capable of admitting their faults.” The man shook his head with a laugh. “But an apology will not be enough to clear this matter up.”

 

“Certainly not,” the boy beside him said. “As the instigators of the Jack the Ripper murders, it is my duty to see you brought to justice.”

 

Harry blinked. “Jack the Ripper?” Well,that was a new one. Or rather it wasn’t, but it was the first time he knew of where the killer wasn’t human. He turned to the redheaded Reaper picking himself off the ground and leaning against a brick wall. “You’re Jack the Ripper? Seriously?”

 

The redhead shouted and threw his chainsaw at him. William caught it and turned back to glare at his fellow Reaper.

 

“Grell,” he said coldly. The redhead, Grell, swooned and started dancing around giggling about William’s icy glares burning him up inside. William threw the chainsaw into his head.

 

Grell shrieked as he fell, but was up again almost immediately, shaking his chainsaw wildly. “What was that for, Will!? Are you really taking this rookie’s side over mine?”

 

“He is not a Reaper,” William said as he adjusted his glasses again.

 

“Huh?” Grell stared at him in confusion. Harry sympathized. Only a few Reapers actually recognized him on sight, most had to be told who he was. He figured it was probably because of how similar he looked to Reapers-- green eyes and glasses weren't distinguishing features when everyone had them.

 

“Harry is our... guest, the one we received those flyers about last year,” William ended with a cough. Grell stared at him and then looked at Harry blankly.

 

Harry waved at him and smiled.

 

Grell turned back to William. “You're joking,” he said and pointed dramatically at Harry.  _ “This _ is  _ that person?” _

 

“Hey, rude,” Harry said with a frown.

 

“Oh?” The man behind them spoke up, sounding intrigued. “So you are not a Grim Reaper then?”

 

“What are you then?” the boy asked blithely. “Some sort of guardian angel?”

 

Harry looked at the kid, then turned to William. “Do people really have those?” he asked curiously.

 

William sighed and adjusted his glasses with the tip of his clippers. Harry was in a lot of trouble when they got back to headquarters. He worried he might be grinning a little crazily, his cheeks felt stretched so wide.

 

“Certainly not an angel,” the man said, an edge of laughter coloring his voice.

 

“Then what are you?” the boy demanded. “Accompanying Reapers to murder scenes and bringing the dead back to life! That shouldn’t be possible.”

 

Harry hummed, looking at the boy more carefully. He was rather young to be wandering around ‘murder scenes’ wasn't he. Couldn’t be more than twelve, missing an eye, and so very, very bitter.

 

“Hey.” Harry turned and smiled at Grell. When the redheaded Reaper looked at him, he pointed at the boy and man standing by the now fully alive, but unconscious woman. “What's with them?”

 

“Huh?” Grell gave him a confused look, glanced at the pair, then huffed and turned away.  “Who knows?” he said with a careless shrug.

 

Harry kept smiling. “I asked you a question Reaper Grell. I expect an honest answer.”

 

Grell hissed through his teeth and sent a narrow eyed look over his shoulder at him.

 

“Now, if you please.” Harry smiled wider.

 

“Fine!” Grell bit out with a whine. “They're just some interlopers investigating the Ripper murders.” He gave a nasty smirk to the boy. “And she happened to be his own aunt. Bet that'll be fun to report to the queen, eh?”

 

Harry blinked and glanced between the boy, the unconscious woman, and Grell. “You're kidding.”

 

“I'm not!” Grell said indignantly. He waved a hand toward the woman on the ground as one might wave at a dog piddling on their yard. “She really is his aunt!”

 

“And... she's also Jack the Ripper.” Harry looked at the bloody woman on the ground doubtfully.

 

“Exactly!” Grell said with a sharp grin. “Tragic, isn’t it?”

 

“I thought  _ you  _ were the crazy murderer,” Harry said slowly.

 

“No!” Grell waved his chainsaw thru the air, making it teeter back and forth playfully. “I was just collecting the souls she killed, since I had to collect them anyway, I figured it'd be more fun to watch them go!”

 

“That's… one of the worst excuses I've ever heard for murder.” Harry had a sudden thought and turned back to William. “Oh my god,  _ he's  _ why you put up with me so well! You've had practice!” he said accusingly. William just sighed at him.

 

"Argh!” the boy suddenly shouted. “I've had enough of this! Sebastian, I order you to capture the second Jack the Ripper.”

 

"Yes, my lord,” the man said, a dark, eager smile coming onto his face.

 

Grell giggled at him and raised his chainsaw. “If you really want to play with me Seb-baby, I won't say no! We’ll let our passion mingle with the blood on the walls!”

 

William tilted his clipper staff and suddenly it shot out and slammed into Grell's head, shoving him across the alley and pinning him to the wall as he shrieked.

 

Harry stepped back slowly, looking at his Reaper babysitter out of the corner of his eye. The clippers had gone very close to his nose and he figured it might be a good idea not to annoy William any further. He seemed to be at the end of his rope, dealing with two annoyances at once.

 

William took a deep breath, glanced briefly at Harry, who smiled weakly and waved a finger at him, then turned back to the boy and man, who were watching with a vague sort of shock.

 

“As I said earlier, I must apologize for the trouble my co-worker has caused you,” he said monotonously. “Rest assured, he will be suitably disciplined.”

 

“That's not good enough,” the boy said coldly. “I gave my word to ensure the Queen's peace by ending Ripper's rampage, and I will do so.”

 

“And how can we trust the Reapers' judgement, after they allowed one of their own to go completely unchecked?” the man, Sebastian, said reasonably.

 

“How are you going to keep him here?” Harry asked curiously.

 

Everyone looked at him, seeming to have forgotten about him while arguing. Harry gestured toward Grell, still pinned by William's clippers and whimpering pitifully.

 

“He's not human, and he can’t die,” he said and shrugged. “So how are you going to hold on to him? Jail him, try him, execute him? The human world has no capability to do any of these things.”

 

The boy flushed and glared at him. “Then we shall just have to do our best, won’t we? Sebastian!”

 

Sebastian smirked like a Cheshire cat, staring at Harry. “Yes, my lord,” he purred, then he turned toward Grell and vanished.

 

He appeared only a moment later, knocking William's clippers to the side and grabbing Grell by his hair.

 

There was a scream, shrieking metal and sparks, and the almost wet sound of cloth ripping. Harry missed pretty much everything else, because he'd had to throw himself backwards to the ground in order to avoid getting hit in the face by William's staff as it was flung toward him by Sebastian's toss.

 

The alley was a full out battleground when Harry sat up. Sebastian had stolen Grell's chainsaw and was trying to slice off one of the redhead's limbs. William was stopping that, mainly by grabbing Grell with his clippers and throwing him into walls, while also trying to whack Sebastian at the same time.

 

The man couldn’t be human, not with the easy way he danced out of harm’s way again and again. Then Grell got thrown up onto the roof, and both Sebastian and William practically flew up the walls after him. Yeah, no way was he human.

 

A loud click broke the sudden quiet the squabbling Reapers and whatever the handsome man was had left behind, and Harry looked down to find the boy pointing a gun at him.

 

“I surrender,” he said and raised his arms.

 

The boy glared. “Don't mock me!”

 

“Well what else do you say when someone's pointing a gun at you?” Harry asked with a shrug.

 

The boy sneered, but didn't seem to have an answer.

 

“So what's your name then?” Harry asked.

 

“What -- I'm the one who'll ask the questions!”

 

“Oh? Like what?”

 

“You -- what are you?!” The boy was getting very flustered. Probably it was his first time holding someone at gunpoint. “How did you heal Aunt An?”

 

“Rude,” Harry said, shaking his head sadly. “Couldn't even ask for a name first, even after I was so polite.”

 

The boy's face flushed and raised the gun higher. “You showed up accompanied by a Grim Reaper, and given the way they spoke of you, you must be of some importance to them.”

 

“More like a recurring headache really.”

 

The boy paused, looking nonplussed then grit his teeth and glared even harder at him.

 

“Careful, you hold it too long and your face will stick like that,” Harry said cheerfully.

 

The boy looked like he was either going to scream or shoot him. Possibly both at once.

 

“It's Harry by the way.” Harry gave his most magnanimous nod. “Since you didn't ask.”

 

Poor kid. Harry wondered if it was possible for someone so young to have an aneurysm. Probably not.

 

He still might have shot Harry, if Grell hadn't slammed into the ground next to them. William landed lightly next to Harry, while Sebastian dropped silently beside the boy, Grell’s chainsaw held loosely in his hands like a toy.

 

“Aren't you finished yet?” the boy snapped, apparently preferring to lash out at his friend rather than argue with Harry any more.

 

Sebastian smiled, eyes narrowed to slits. “This particular Reaper is more competent than the buffoon.”

 

Grell groaned something from the pile of bruised limbs and tattered cloth he'd become. It might have been words, but the sound was too garbled to really make out.

 

“In any case, it doesn't seem my master has had any more luck against one not even trying to fight back,” Sebastian teased the boy, giving him a charming, if mean looking smile.

 

“Why would I fight a kid?” Harry asked bemusedly.

 

If looks could burn... well, Harry would have caught fire before now. He smiled at the boy and stood up, brushing his trousers off. The gun followed him, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to be concerned.

 

“So,” he turned to William. “Are  _ you  _ done playing yet?”

 

William sniffed at him, and snapped his clippers shut. “I cannot allow one of our Death Scythes to remain in the hands of a beast like that.”

 

“Oh, right.” Harry looked back at Sebastian, gently waving Grell's chainsaw at them with obvious enjoyment. “It's weird you're having so much trouble with him. What is he exactly? A werewolf?”

 

Harry knew the instant he said it that he was wrong. William pushed his glasses up and ignored him, while Sebastian and the boy both stared at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

 

“Okay, so not a werewolf,” Harry said with a shrug. “A galla? Or a satyr maybe? I can just keep guessing. I don't mind. Vampire?”

 

“He's a demon,” William finally said, monotonous tone carrying an edge of annoyance.

 

Harry frowned and looked Sebastian’s very handsome face and body over carefully. “He doesn't look like a demon.”

 

“Oh?” Sebastian gave him a condescending smirk and tilted his head. “And what ought I to look like?”

 

Harry shrugged. “Don't know. I don't tend to interact much with demons. I don't like them.”

 

“What a shame,” the demon merely smiled and watched him from coyly lowered lashes. Harry figured a demon would enjoy being so attractive to humans, it probably lowered their defenses. “I suppose I shall just have to do my best to leave an impression.”

 

“Stop playing around,” the boy said angrily. “I gave you an order Sebastian.”

 

“Ah, a butler's work is never done.” The demon hefted the chainsaw over his shoulder and turned his pretty smirk on William. “I'm afraid my master has ordered your compatriot’s capture. Please do keep trying to stop me if you wish to be beaten.”

 

With that, the demon swung the chainsaw forward, revving the engine with a sharp yank of the pull-cord as he did. William barely had time to raise his staff before the chainsaw's teeth shrieked as they met the metal pole in a shower of sparks.

 

Harry looked between them and the kid who'd ordered the demon, suddenly feeling very tired. He let out a sigh and walked two steps over to William’s side, reached out, and touched the unmoving flat piece of Grell's chainsaw. For a brief moment it glowed, then in a puff of smoke it vanished.

 

Sebastian had a single second to look shocked before William's clippers slammed into him and sent him flying to the back of the alley and thru a wall.

 

Harry stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at William. “Okay, the demon doesn't have the Death Scythe anymore. Can we go now?”

 

William stared at him, expressionless.  _ “Now _ you want to leave?”

 

Harry shrugged. “Demons are boring,” he said. “And anyway, you were right.”

 

“....I was right?”

 

“Yeah,” Harry said tiredly. “I thought anything that would be rewriting people's fates would be interesting, but it was just... someone slacking off.”

 

Harry sent the still groaning pile of Grell a brief glare.

 

“This turned out more boring than I thought it would be.”

 

“My apologies for not being more entertaining,” the demon called out. He had pulled himself out of the broken wall he'd been thrown into, looking worse for wear but still very much intact and extremely irritated.

 

Harry shrugged. “I'm sure you can't help it.”

 

That got him a nasty look, though it still managed to be annoyingly attractive.

 

William's clippers shot out to the side of the alley and grabbed the collar of Grell's shirt. It retracted back to William, dragging the redhead until he was laying at the Reaper’s feet.

 

“Well then, our apology has been properly delivered and predictably rejected,” William said as he adjusted his glasses. “But what more can one expect from a demon. For now I will consider our business concluded.”

 

He turned and walked away, and Harry followed.

 

“Wait!” the boy called behind them. “You can't just leave!”

 

Harry glanced at William curiously.  “Hey, aren’t we supposed to erase people's memories, or...?”

 

“It's going in the report,” William said stiffly.

 

Harry frowned. “So, no then.” Guess the Grim Reapers couldn’t do anything if people found out about them. It would explain why there were so many superstitions about them.

 

“Don't just ignore m-!” The boy's furious voice cut off suddenly.

 

Harry looked back and saw the demon was muffling the kid's mouth with his hand. The boy looked absolutely incensed, but the demon, Sebastian, was watching him, completely blank, his eyes glowing eerie red.

 

A child with his own demon. Harry was definitely tired now. 

 


	2. The Fell Clutch of Circumstance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry sort of, not really, joins the Reaper investigation at Noah's Ark Circus! He pretends he's more interested in the circus than the investigation, but old habits die hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned into a monster! I was debating cutting it up into two parts--and then you guys would get two chapters updated the same week-- but then they just felt too short. So-- you get one huge chapter and it'll be a while before the next chapter.
> 
> Also, some of you have mentioned not reading Kuroshitsuji before-- if you don't wanna be spoiled, you may not want to read this, cause it is spoiling some of the Circus Arc pretty much immediately. You can find the Circus Arc on Hulu if you want to see what is supposed to happen. Otherwise, I'll try to make sure everything makes sense even if you don't know what's going on!
> 
> As always, let me know what you think-- comments are how I keep my writing energy up! I'm hoping to keep up enough inspiration for this fic to make it all the way to the school arc at least, so comments will help me get there! Just don't ask me what the plan is.... I don't work that way. -_-;; heh... BUT I do know that if I can get to the school, I can ABSOLUTELY get some porn in!!! Priorities, right? XD

* * *

 

Just as he’d thought, Harry was blamed for the mess of paperwork his brief foray into the living world had produced. He argued that Grell was really at fault for all of it, but the amount of paperwork generated for returning a soul to life was almost triple all the offences Grell had committed combined, so everyone was angrier with him than the serial-killer Reaper. Which was very unfair in Harry’s opinion.

 

If they could have banished him, or locked him up, or made him write lines-- anything!-- they would have. Unfortunately, the Reapers had no power over him, and Harry was rather shamelessly taking advantage of his power over them. Hanging around the Grim Reaper Headquarters was worlds better than having to make a living in the human world after all. Even if everyone was treating him like he had the plague.

 

William was still his main babysitter, and because of that,  _ he  _ was the one who actually had to fill out and file all the paperwork from Harry resurrecting that Jack-the-Ripper woman. He hadn’t spoken a single word to Harry since returning to Headquarters.

 

That was two months ago and Harry was bored, bored,  _ bored! _

 

“I said I was sorry,” Harry said to the desktop his head was nested on.

 

William didn’t respond, simply continuing to methodically sign and stamp papers.

 

“I mean, I’m not sorry I did it,” Harry broke off to yawn and brought his chin up to balance on his arms. “But I  _ am  _ sorry you got stuck with all the paperwork. Death really shouldn’t be so bureaucratic.”

 

William was very pointedly focused on his work, he made not one glance or even a twitch toward Harry to show he was listening at all.

 

“I did offer to help stamp everything, you’ll recall,” Harry added sourly. “I certainly didn’t have to, and it’s not my fault you wouldn’t let me.”

 

_ Scritch-scratch _ , went the pen, shortly followed by a  _ squelch  _ and  _ thump _ , then William shuffled papers around and started again. Harry moaned and buried his face in his arms again.

 

“This so  _ dull!” _ he mumbled into the desktop. “I thought you put in a request to have me shoved off on someone else?”

 

William finally paused. Harry lifted his head an inch up to look at him. The Reaper’s face was terrifyingly blank.

 

“It was rejected.” William stared at Harry, and slowly pushed his glasses up, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

 

Harry groaned and let his head fall back into his arms. “Wonderful.”

 

William snorted, then went back to his paperwork. Harry swore the only thing more boring than needlessly complicated paperwork, was being forced to watch someone else do it all day. 

 

Luckily for Harry, the Grim Reaper Dispatch was perpetually understaffed, and after two months of Grell Sutcliff-- the serial killer Reaper extraordinaire-- being on suspension, even William had to be shuffled around to pick up the slack. 

 

For several weeks, William went out for a couple hours at a time, and left strict instructions for Harry to stay at his desk and not leave for any reason. It was annoying, and the rest of the office took turns keeping an eye on Harry to ensure he didn’t wander.

 

He wandered, frequently.

 

The halls of the Grim Reaper Headquarters were bare and impersonal, a vague white space that felt like it had always been and was reminiscent of whatever culture it’s denizens were mostly from. So in Britain, the halls reminded Harry of King’s Crossing or the Palace of Westminster. Sometimes that familiarity was comforting, which is why Harry was staying with the British Grim Reaper Dispatch in this world.

 

The Reapers had always been strange to Harry. He worried about why they existed the way they did in every world, but this world’s reason was particularly cruel. In this world, they were suicides, all of them, and being Reapers seemed to be a punishment that forced them to take the lives of those who didn’t want to die.

 

Harry sympathized, being trapped in his own forsaken existence and just watching lives end over and over. Dear Merlin, but he was getting maudlin in his old age.

 

But walking through pale, empty halls that almost reminded him of a long lost home, with no one but the bitter dead for company, it was hard not to get just a little depressed. Harry was so distracted with bleak thoughts, he walked right past one vaguely familiar Reaper who stopped and turned toward him.

 

“Hey!” A loud voice cut through Harry’s thoughts, and almost made him pause.

 

Harry knew, however, that the Reapers never wanted to speak with him unless they had to, and the only reason they would have to now was to insist he go back to the Management Department and sit quietly at William’s desk. He kept walking.

 

“Hey! Don’t ignore me!” The voice got very high pitched in fury. He felt like he knew that voice--

 

“You! Baby Death!” The Reaper stalked around him and blocked his path, glowering behind round, rimless glasses with a beaded skull chain. He…didn’t look like anyone Harry knew, being so plain aside from his accessory.

 

“What?” Harry didn’t think any servant of Death, in any world, had ever given him a nickname before.

 

“Don’t act all innocent with me!” the Reaper snarled. “What are you doing out without Will? Ain’t he your babysitter?”

 

Harry frowned. “Do I know you?” he asked coldly.

 

“What!” the Reaper shrieked and stomped up to him, shoving his face right into Harry’s. “How could you forget a perfect face like this?”

 

Harry had a sudden, unnerving feeling that he  _ did _ know this Reaper, and watched dismayed as the mousey brown bloke dramatically threw himself against a wall and cried.

 

“Of course you wouldn’t recognize me!” the Reaper moaned. “After seeing my gorgeous, vivacious self, who would notice this sad, drab dunnock I’ve become! Oh! So pale a face that so well matches this gloomy shade of death!”

 

“Oh no…” Harry winced as the Reaper’s cries reached an obnoxious pitch. “Grell Sutcliff?”

 

“How tragic!” Grell wailed. “That you would know me, but have to see me in this wretched state of my punishment!”

 

“Your punishment…” Harry said slowly. “What? They made you dye your hair and tie it back?”

 

“No!” Grell stood up and stalked over to Harry, waving his dark brown ponytail over his shoulder at him. “They made me take the dye out! Look at this uninspired, dreary shade! How can I let myself be seen by any handsome man when I am such a hideous mess!”

 

“You murdered people,” Harry said incredulously. “And all they did was change your damn hair color?”

 

“Che!” Grell scoffed at him and waved a hand dismissively. “They lectured me and assigned me cleaning duties too! And anyway-- I didn’t end any of those lives, I just watched Madam Red kill them all.”

 

“Some of them weren’t meant to die that soon,” Harry said severely. “And you  _ did  _ kill that woman-- Jack the Ripper, Madam Red? I saw you do it!”

 

“Hmph.” Grell crossed his arms and regarded Harry through the sheen of his glasses. “And you brought her back, so no harm no foul.” The Reaper gave a careless shrug. “And all those dull women were going to die eventually anyway, what does it matter if they died a few days or years early?”

 

“It matters!” Harry snapped. The Reaper looked at him in surprise. “Everyone’s going to die eventually, but that’s no bloody excuse to end their lives sooner!”

 

Grell pursed his lips consideringly, then placed a hand on his hips and cocked them to the side with a smirk. “Everyone... except you, right?”

 

Harry’s stomach clenched. The Reaper grinned, his teeth shining sharp and mean.

 

“Everyone’s gotta die sooner or later, but  _ you _ ,” Grell tossed his brown ponytail over his shoulder and laughed. “You get to watch it all. All those lives ending, and your’s just goes on and on.”

 

“I’ll die too,” Harry said quietly. “Eventually.”

 

He had too. Even stars died. Eventually the whole universe and all realities would die with the last stars, and there would be nothing but empty darkness. Surely Harry would be allowed to die then?

 

“It’s a bit arrogant for an immortal to be judging the lives and deaths of mere humans though, don’t ya think?” Grell said sweetly.

 

Harry clenched his fists at his sides and glared. “What I’m  _ judging _ is an arrogant  _ fool _ of a deadman, thinking he has  _ any _ right to decide who lives and who dies, when the world already decided he didn’t have the right to decide his own death.”

 

Grell flinched back and went white. For a moment, Harry almost thought the Reaper was going to lash out and strike him, but servants of Death couldn’t knowingly raise a hand against him. So they stood in the empty hall and just glared spitefully at each other.

 

“You know,” Grell said suddenly. “I’m pretty sure I heard Will had to go out for a mission.”

 

“So?” Harry frowned. William had been going out frequently for missions-- and complaining about them every time.

 

“So…” Grell smirked viciously. “ _ You _ ought to be patiently waiting for him at his desk-- it’d be so cruel to disappoint him, when he’s working so hard~!”

 

“It was boring,” Harry said. He didn’t like the look that was growing in Grell’s eyes. “I’ll head back later.”

 

“No, no, no,” Grell shook his head and suddenly smiled brightly. “You were put under Will’s supervision, and as a good, law-abiding Grim Reaper it is of course my  _ duty _ to ensure our special guest follows the rules that were laid out for him when he showed up demanding our hospitality!”

 

“Y- you weren’t even here when I came!” Harry sputtered. He shifted his feet backward, there was another hall junction not too far to the left, maybe he could run for it.

 

Grell stalked toward him, backing him into a wall, and not letting Harry get any distance between them.

 

“Oh no, but I had  _ all _ the rules for proper Grim Reapers to follow lectured into my brain all over again as part of my suspension,” Grell said with forced cheer. “And  _ you _ were a big part of that! Since  _ I _ got blamed for  _ your _ stupid resurrection!”

 

“That  _ was _ your fault!” Harry said angrily. Damn, the Reaper had cornered him. He could order Grell to move, but he was already feeling bad for taunting him with his own suicide. Honestly, that had been a shitty thing to bring up, no matter how awful Grell was being.

 

“Oh ho ho ho!” Grell grinned, looking quite mad. “So said the higher-ups! You get to be completely blameless, and poor Will gets stuck cleaning up after you!”

 

“It was your damn mess!”

 

“So, as a good Grim Reaper,” Grell repeated loudly, ignoring Harry’s protests as he grabbed his arm. “It is absolutely my duty to return you to your designated spot-- where Will expects you to be out of the way!”

 

“Hey!” Harry cried out as Grell yanked hard and started walking with his arm held tight.

 

Grell refused to let go, no matter how Harry struggled, and dragged him through the halls past dozens of startled Reapers. Harry forgot he could just order the arse to let go, partly because he still felt a little bad for what he’d said, and partly because he felt bad because of what Grell had said. But by the time he’d been dragged all the way back to the Management Department, he forgot because he was too furious to think clearly.

 

As they reached William’s desk, where he had returned from wherever and watched with the rest of the shocked office as Harry and Grell barged into the room, snarling and fighting, Harry finally got out of Grell’s headlock, yanked his ponytail, and kicked him in the stomach. The Reaper fell back with a cry onto William’s desk, who stared down at him expressionlessly.

 

“Ah!” Grell sat up suddenly, pain forgotten. “You’re back! And look-- I brought the Baby Death back so he couldn’t cause any trouble!”

 

“Your  _ friend _ ,” Harry said coldly to William, “is an unbearable umbrella of an arsehole!”

 

William sighed, pushed his glasses up, shoved Grell shrieking off his desk, and sat down.

 

“I would appreciate it,” he said tonelessly, “if you would endeavor to  _ not _ bring trash back from your wanderings.”

 

“Will!” Grell cried from the floor. He wormed over to William’s shins and latched onto them like a limpet. “Ah! So cruel-- the stroke of death is but a lover’s pinch!” 

 

Harry scoffed and sat down across the desk. “I’m taking a nap,” he grumbled. “ _ That _ had better be gone when I wake up.”

 

* * *

 

Fortunately for everyone’s sanity, shortly after that William was assigned to something that would last longer than a few hours. It turned out that aside from a viciously enthusiastic Grell, no one was willing to watch Harry for him while he was gone. No one was willing to take over his extended assignment either, so William  _ had  _ to go. Since no one wanted to know what havoc would occur if Harry and Grell were actually left alone together, the Reapers grudgingly okayed another excursion into the living world. 

 

Harry was absolutely tickled.

 

He did have to sit through a day of “lessons” on how to integrate into current human society without drawing notice, but after giving him a change of clothes (which Harry strongly suspected William had picked out) the day turned into an excuse for William and five other Reapers to lecture him repeatedly on  _ not  _ resurrecting anyone ever, for any reason, seriously just  _ never _ do that. They had charts, diagrams, and a two hundred page treatise they made him take with him. Harry threw it in the Thames half an hour after walking into London.

 

William wasn’t happy about that and immediately wrote it down in his notebook for the report he would submit when they finished. Harry had offered to help with that as well, but had been given a look of such revulsion that he’d ended up laughing like a madman for the rest of the walk to their destination. People almost certainly stared, and Harry didn’t care at all.

 

When William told him they had finally arrived, he looked up in surprise. 

 

“A circus?” Harry said. “No way, we get to see a show? I thought you said missions weren’t supposed to be any fun?”

 

“They are not fun,” William said sternly, trying to glare Harry into being serious. “We have to investigate several targets at this location over the next week as there won’t be enough time to judge them when their actual deaths occur.”

 

“Because they all die at the same time, right?” Harry said slowly, looking around at the colorful tents and booths, and all the people wandering between them in Victorian clothing. So, almost-definitely- _ probably  _ late 1800s. Fashion was, in Harry’s experience, an even more unreliable indication of time than gas lamps, but taken together they were strong enough evidence to guess the era. In the range of decades even!

 

Just as long as this world wasn't an outlier of course.

 

“Within 3 minutes of each other,” William said, glancing through his notebook, likely checking photographs again so he would be certain he was investigating the correct people. “Seven people here, along with two hundred and sixty-one others, will die in a span of 178.7779 seconds, which is sixty-eight souls over the collection limit for a timeframe less than 180 seconds for collections done by a single Reaper.”

 

“Wait… so we’re only investigating  _ seven  _ of the scheduled souls?” Harry asked, turning to William in surprise. “What about the other two hundred?”

 

William glanced at him with the slightest of sneers.  _ “You _ are not qualified to judge the worthiness of even a single soul, let alone two hundred and sixty-one.”

 

Which meant the Reapers probably thought there was less chance he could do any damage here with seven souls, than he could wherever the two hundred others were… except, there was something odd about that.

 

“Hold up-- do you mean that all the rest of the people who will die are in the same place?” 

 

“Not quite,” William sniffed and went back to studying his notebook. “There are a handful scattered around the city, but most of them are indeed collected in the same general area, and I have already investigated the majority in the previous weeks.”

 

Harry tried to think why such a large group of people would be in the same place for such a long period of time.  School houses came to mind, or maybe a ship at sea. But then how would the seven people at the circus and handful of others mentioned end up at the same place? Of course, it could be a coincidence that so many people were all dying at the same time and they were never going to meet, but deaths were usually grouped due to their recorded fate, so they should all have some underlying connection. 

 

A shared reason for them all to die pretty much at once…. Perhaps a hurricane, or some other natural disaster. Those tended to tie totally unrelated people together in death.

 

Whatever it was, he was going to “help” William investigate so he’d figure it out over the next week.

 

In the meanwhile-- a whole week away from everyone at the Reapers’ Headquarters side-eyeing him and whispering behind his back! At a circus! It was like a vacation.

 

“How are we going to investigate people at the circus anyway?” Harry asked, getting distracted by a guessing game over on the side. Oh, and next to it was a fried food vendor; that smelled amazing. “Are we just gonna check out the shows every day?”

 

Harry really hoped William said yes. Going to the circus every day sounded like a lot of fun. It didn’t matter what era or culture it was, circuses were made for constant fun.

 

William didn’t answer, so Harry looked over to find him frowning unhappily as he re-read their targets’ entries.

 

“Earth to William?” Harry nudged the Reaper with his elbow.

 

“It was advised that we simply join them,” William said stiffly.

 

Harry’s eyes lit up. “We get to join the circus? Really?” This was going to be even better than he thought.

 

William gave him a very annoyed glare. Right, he was the sort who hated extra work-- nothing about this was going to be fun. Harry grinned. 

 

“We at least get to watch the show before we try to audition, right?” Harry asked eagerly. “Businesses like it when you show interest in their work, so that would help the auditions, right?”

 

William just sighed and snapped his notebook closed. “Please try your best not to interfere in anything.  _ Anything.” _

 

“You didn’t have to repeat it,” Harry said with a pout. William ignored him, turned a corner around the side of the largest tent and walked toward a man juggling for a group of cheering children and their parents. “So,  _ are  _ we going to watch a show before we ask for jobs?”

 

William walked right through the group of kids, not seeming to care the way they fell silent and stared up at him, confused and scared. The juggler caught the balls he’d been tossing around and smiled at William curiously. Harry stopped behind the Reaper and just stared. The juggler was on the List and almost certainly one of those they were investigating.

 

“Can I help ya gentlemen?” the juggler asked cheerfully. He winked at the kids, getting them all to giggle again and dispelling the tense air instantly.

 

“We would like to join this circus,” William said matter-of-factly, and adjusted his glasses.

 

“Woah, we’re just  _ asking?” _ Harry said. He wasn’t the only one shocked, the juggler’s mouth dropped open, and the crowd around them fell into a stunned silence. 

 

Then the kids all started eagerly asking if  _ they  _ could join the circus too. The adults muttered worriedly to each other and reached for their children as if they might run off and jump in a tiger pen any second. The juggler laughed loudly and tossed several of his balls high into the air with a wide grin.

 

“Now, let’s not get ahead o’ourselves!” he said cheerfully. “Being in th’ circus is hard work!” He caught five of the balls while spinning around. Two were held up in a hand made of bones. “It’ll take ya all years ta get as good as me!” The last ball thrown up suddenly fell onto his head, making the children and even the adults laugh again.

 

The juggler shrugged with a smile and then turned to grin at William and Harry.

 

“While I’d love ta have more friends join our merry band--” the juggler winked and dramatically held up a finger. “There’s an audition test ya gotta pass first!”

 

“Acceptable,” William said, nodding seriously.

 

The juggler looked surprised for a moment then laughed. “Well, well! If’n yer that confident, we’ll just have ta test ya now!” He turned to the crowd and bowed. “I’ll have ta be off now, but I hope all ya lovely folk’ll be at the big show tonight! Best excitement y’ll ever see!”

 

The children cheered, so eager for the show they weren’t even disappointed to see the juggler go. The man grinned and waved them off, then gestured for William and Harry to follow him. They went all the way around the big tent, into a corded off area with far more drab tents than the ones out front.

 

“I’m just gonna let my pals know, and we’ll set ya up fer yer audition in just a sec!” the juggler told them with a wide grin. “Gotta say though, we get all sorts comin’ ta join us, but yer the first pair so nicely dressed ta come up ta me!” 

 

Harry snorted. “Not really a job made for suits, is it?” he looked at William and giggled. Oh, this was going to be hilarious.

 

The juggler laughed with him. “Can’t say it is, no!” He had them wait in the aisle between tents, and went into one, coming out a few moments later with a pair of children who…weren’t children. They were also on the List.

 

“These are the kids that wanna join up?” the boy said derisively. “Joker, they look like they ain’t never done any hard work in their lives!”

 

“Hey, now,” Harry said with a grin. “Just cause William here is allergic to work, doesn’t mean both of us are.”

 

“Coming from someone who only ever causes problems and extra work for other people, I find that exceptionally unfair.” William said, adjusting his glasses with a frown.

 

The juggler and two not-children stared at him, then the juggler burst out laughing. Harry happily joined in.

 

“Pfft! Oh, ya’ve got quite the sense a’humor there!” the juggler laughed. He smiled and held out his bony hand. “Th’ name’s Joker. Pleased ta meet cha’ both!”

 

“I’m Harry, and he’s William.” Harry shook the man’s hand with a grin while jerking his thumb at William, who pretended to ignore them. He glanced down at the skeltal fingers in his grip. “Ceramic?”

 

“Oh ho!” Joker raised the bony fingers up and wiggled them around with a clatter. “Ya can tell, huh? Not many people can.”

 

“It’s a pretty intricate design for a prosthetic,” Harry said, watching the way the fingers moved. It looked like Joker could control them by shifting the weight so they opened and closed as he wanted. “And you were juggling with it so it must be sturdy as well-- not an easy thing for ceramics.”

 

Joker laughed. “Oh, the Doc’s gonna love ya! Anyone who can appreciate his artistry is good in his books!”

 

Harry smiled vaguely, still watching Joker’s hand. “He’s part of your circus then?”

 

“Yep! He’s everyone’s doctor here, we’re all lucky ta have him,” Joker said with a wide grin.

 

Harry hummed, then looked down where the girl who wasn’t a girl was grinning up at him.

 

“What a nice boy ya are,” she said sweetly. “Here’s hopin’ ya pass our test, it’ll be fun ta have yer sweet face around!”

 

The boy next to Joker grimaced. “Wendy!”

 

The girl laughed and started walking off toward the large tent, the boy running after her. Joker shrugged ruefully and gestured for Harry and William to follow them.

 

“As ya can see, our group is a wee bit unusual,” he told them. “Big bro Peter and big sis Wendy are both top tier performers along with m’self, so we’ll set up the test for ya and judge if ya can join us!”

 

“Acceptable,” William said seriously. He was watching the two not-children ahead of them with the same intensity he’d given Joken when they first walked up to him. Harry rolled his eyes and shared a grin with the juggler. 

 

Honestly, William was such a serious worker despite all his complaints.

 

When they got to the big tent, Joker turned to them both with a flourish. “So, m’dearies! What would be the specialties ya both are aiming for?”

 

“Hmm, I guess anything in the air?” Harry said as he looked up at the trapeze and ropes above them. “Being up high is always fun!”

 

“I have no preference,” William said. He adjusted his glasses and looked at Joker seriously. “Whatever you need, I can do.”

 

“Pfft!” Joker covered a laugh. “Ya really have too straight a’face ta make claims like that!”

 

The boy, Peter, sneered. “We’ll see how well ya both do! So ya wanna be up high?” He grinned meanly at Harry. “Then how’s about we start w’that!”

 

He pointed up toward the top of the tent, where Harry saw a long rope stretched between the two main poles holding the tent up. Wendy cried and smacked him.

 

“Don’t bully the newbies!” she said with a huff. “What if ya scare ‘em off?”

 

“Then they shouldn’t be tryin’ ta join the circus!” Peter said angrily, glaring at her then Harry. “If these kids can’t handle something as simple as a tightrope, then they should be scared off!”

 

Harry grinned happily. “Where do I climb up?”

 

Joker and the two not-children stared at him, then Wendy burst out laughing and Joker covered a huge grin of his own. Peter sputtered and pointed at him.

 

“Y-ya idiot!” he shouted. “We’ll see how scared ya get once yer up there!” Then he ran over to one of the poles and turned back to Harry. “Hurry up scardy-brat! We don’t got all day!”

 

Harry followed him and climbed with him all the way to the top of a platform just above where the rope was tied to an arm off the pole. Peter gestured him closer to the edge and started wrapping another rope around his middle.

 

“Scared yet?” Peter asked with a smirk.

 

“Nah,” Harry said as he leaned over the side and waved down at William and the others. Wendy and Joker were the only ones to wave back though. Harry shrugged and looked back at Peter. “We’re not really that high up.”

 

Peter made a face and pulled the knot on the rope around him as tight as he could. “We’ll see how ya do when ya just got a thin rope ‘tween ya and a 10 meter drop!”

 

“Aww, are you worried about me?” 

 

Peter gave him a disgusted look and Harry giggled. Then the not-boy shoved him toward the tightrope, still giggling. There were cries from below as Harry staggered over the rope, but he’d always felt at home the higher up he was, on a cliff, building, or rope, it didn’t matter. Harry hadn’t had a fear of heights since learning to fly.

 

He also had incredibly good balance.

 

So, rather than plummeting and dangling off the life-line Peter tied him to, Harry spun around and danced down the tightrope, spinning and laughing as he went. The cries below from Joker and Wendy turned to  _ oohs  _ and appreciative cheering. Harry stopped near the middle of the line and bowed down at them, then turned and gave Peter a bow as well.

 

“Thanks for the assistance!” Harry called to him with a wink. 

 

Peter shook off his shock and humphed at him, standing straight and crossing his arms with a frown. “Well? Ya still haven’t got ta the other side, newbie!”

 

Harry laughed, spun around, and ran to the opposite platform. “Made it!” he called back, waving at Peter.

 

“It’s not a race, ya idiot!”

 

Harry laughed. This was so much more fun than teasing poker-face William. Figuring the test was over, he strolled back across the rope until he was next to Peter, who gave him an annoyed look and started untying him.

 

“So, do I pass?” Harry asked cheerfully.

 

Peter glared and yanked the rope until Harry spun with the pull as it came off. “Yer just good enough to let in at the bottom rung,” he said grudgingly. Then he slapped Harry on his lower back and shouted down at William. “Hey! Four-eyes! Get yer ass up here, let’s see if ya can outshine yer idiot friend!”

 

William frowned up at them, but started climbing the ladder up the pole. When he reached the top, he paused and pushed his glasses up his nose. 

 

“We are both wearing glasses,” he said, tone vaguely annoyed. “I don’t see why I am the one with the nickname referencing it.”

 

“Would you rather be ‘idiot’?” Harry asked with a rueful grin. “I’m okay with switching.”

 

Peter gave them both a weird look. “I’m gonna change it ta lunatic one and two soon.” He started wrapping the lifeline around the Reaper, tugging to make sure it was on tight. “Alright, let’s see ya hop around the highwire like an idiot then!”

 

William ignored him, and pulled out his hedge clippers, extending them to a long staff and holding it before him. Then he walked calmly along the highwire at a measured pace until he reached the opposite side, turned and walked back.

 

“Both of ya are weird in totally opposite ways,” Peter said, shaking his head as if overcome.

 

Back on the ground, Joker was clapping eagerly, and Harry happily bowed again though William remained unmoved.

 

“Well, not too shabby are ya boys?” Wendy said, giving Peter a sly look as she congratulated them. “We’ll have ta see ya up on the trapeze sometime.”

 

“Not now?” Harry asked as he looked up at the ropes and bars longingly.

 

“Hmph, don’t get ahead of yerself, newbie!” Peter said, arms crossed again and frowning up at him.

 

“Ah, what big bro Peter means,” Joker said quickly, “is that the net isn’t up right now. It’s always taken down for the show-- so if ya wanna perform in the future, be aware that there’ll be nothin’ ta save ya if ya fall!”

 

Harry hummed under his breath. Maybe he’d get to try it another time, they’d be here for a week after all.

 

“Well,” Joker clapped his hands together, the sound a little off with one flesh hand and one ceramic bone one. “That was certainly a good enough showing for skill, ya both got talent! But!” he leaned dramatically toward William. “Yer friend was plenty entertainin’ up on the wire, but ya were much too serious! Ya gotta liven up the crowd if ya wanna be a performer!”

 

“Indeed,” William said, pushing his glasses up and regarding Joker seriously. “I shall endeavor to improve myself in the future.”

 

Joker’s face was hilariously nonplussed, not having expected such a straightforward reaction from William. Harry, and surprisingly Wendy, both laughed. Peter grimaced and ignored them, muttering about weirdos.

 

Joker shrugged with a grin. “Well, at least yer straight-man act can get plenty of smiling faces!” He looked between William and Harry and then nodded. “Alright then! Ya both are accepted ta Noah’s Ark Circus!”

 

“Great!” Harry said excitedly. “So, what’s next?”

 

“Next,” Joker said with a grin, “we’ll take ya on a little tour, and then we’ll introduce ya ta the rest a’the troop!”

 

They ended up parting with the two not-children, who stayed behind to do rope checks before the show tonight, and followed Joker all around the circus back area. Poking their heads into the kitchen tent and a couple of the personal tents so they could see what life was like. Joker chatted with Harry the whole walk, introduced the people they came across and said he’d introduce him and William back once the whole troop was assembled.

 

Then they were back at the big tent where a crowd was gathering outside. Joker told them the show would be starting soon, so introductions would have to be quick. Yet when Harry tried to go into the big tent, where he’d seen lots of circus people go, Joker snagged his collar with his real hand and pulled him back.

 

“Oops! First things first m’dearie~!” Joker said with a grin. “Ya ain’t really dressed fer the circus yet, are ya?”

 

Harry and William were led to another small tent at the back of the big tent, and told to find whatever they liked. In boxes and chests were dozens of apparently unused or discarded costumes, some in perfect condition but most worn and full of holes.

 

“Ah, if ya find something ya like that don’t look too good,” Joker mentioned when Harry held up a dress with so many holes it looked like a net, “don’t worry. We got some people good at stitchin’ if ya’ve set yer heart on something!”

 

Harry eagerly dug through the costumes until he had collected a whole outfit-- a puffy sleeved, white shirt, a deep blue vest, a bright yellow neck tie, a pair of loose, black trousers and, the best part, lurid pink and green polka dot socks. By the time he’d switched into everything, Joker had ‘helped’ William find the most garishly colorful suit and vest combination Harry had ever seen. William was even convinced to put on a mismatched polka dot tie.

 

Once they were both dressed, Joker had them sit down so he could apply makeup.

 

Harry wasn’t sure what was painted onto his own face-- there wasn't a mirror around-- but knew he had eyeshadow and some design on both cheeks. William only got the eyeshadow and stood up before Joker could do anything else, so Harry figured whatever was on his own face must look very silly.

 

Finally, Joker deemed them ready and led them back into the big tent, where a chatting crowd of costumed people were milling near the edge of the ring, waiting for instruction.

 

Joker leapt onto a box set before them all and called out.

 

“Everyone! I’ve got an exciting announcement!” 

 

The crowd quieted and and dozens of painted faces and colorful masks looked toward the two strangers waiting by Joker and the box. William stood perfectly straight and expressionless. Harry grinned and waved.

 

“These here are our two newest members-- Suit and Cat! Be nice and help them out tonight, alright?”

 

There was cheerful applause from the other performers and stagehands, while Harry and William both froze as they processed what they just heard.

 

“Wait a second-” Harry tried to say, but Joker clapped his hands and told everyone it was time for the show. 

 

The whole crowd dissolved into a huge, spreading mess as people ran to do checks, get props, and find their assigned stations. Harry wormed his way through them all until he grabbed Joker by the sleeve.

 

“Hold it!” Harry said as he yanked back and got the man to stop and look at him. “What’s with those names?  _ Cat?” _

 

Joker was smirking and looked absurdly pleased with himself. “Well, m’dearie, ya danced around on the high wire like a cat playing up on a wall. It seemed perfect fer ya!”

 

Harry blinked and tried to think of a good retort. “You… Did you draw whiskers on me?” 

 

Joker laughed. “Oh, they’re only th’ most elegant a’whiskers, I promise ya!”

 

That explained why William hadn’t allowed Joker to paint his face for too long.

 

“Now, ya don’t have any assigned tasks yet, so why don’tcha just ask others if they need any help fer now?” Joker clapped him on the shoulder with his bone hand and shooed him off. “The show’s gonna start soon, so if ya get a chance, check it out!”

 

Harry dumbly watched him walk off while William walked up to his side, writing something in his notebook. He was really out of practice interacting with the living if some mid-twenties circus juggler could surprise him like that.

 

“Cat,” he muttered. It wasn't bad really, not the most creative name ever, but he’d been called worse. He glanced at William who’d finished his notes and tucked it all away in his coat. “And Suit. What do you think?”

 

William adjusted his glasses and turned toward the side of the tent where people were sorting something. “Acceptable,” he said. He headed over to the group, apparently determined to do a good job even if he hated it.

 

Harry stared after him then followed with a laugh. That was the best way to put it really. An acceptable vacation from the Realm of Death.

 


	3. The Bludgeonings of Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, another fairly long chapter for your wait! As always, I live for your comments and they are truly what drives me to keep writing. Let me know what you think of this chapter and what you think is gonna happen!
> 
> Next chapter is coming slowly, the manga updates are awesome, but for some reason I'm being drawn into another fandom... 'tis a curse guys. Help me break it and stay focused on this one!

 

* * *

 

 

As excited as he’d been for it, being in a circus wasn’t exactly a new experience for Harry, and it would certainly get boring if he’d planned to stay there for a year or two. But it was only going to be for a week-- and being in a circus with a Grim Reaper was totally new and it was _hilarious_.

 

He understood now why his “integration” classes had only really focused on telling him not to resurrect people. Reapers may have started out human, but dying and being separated from their cultures and eras made them… not so good at understanding the living. But they still _thought_ they did.

 

William walked around investigating the souls on his List, muttering under his breath about what he was putting in his report, and literally everyone in the whole circus thought he was either completely nuts, or so dedicated to some kind of performance role that it was admirable. The debate between which one was made all the more heated by the fact that Harry was often following right behind him and giggling like a maniac the whole time.

 

Together, the two of them fit in rather well with the circus.

 

After a couple days, Harry had also noticed at least one pattern to figuring out how the two hundred or so souls would be dying. There were eight headliners and seven of them were set to die at the end of the week-- they were all on William’s List.

 

First, there was Joker, the juggler and apparent head of the troop, then there were the two childlike adults, Peter and Wendy, who were the circus’ trapeze artists. The next List souls they met were the strongman, Jumbo, and the knife thrower, Dagger. Last were the wild cat tamer, Beast, and the tightrope walker, Doll.

 

Except…the circus Doctor was also on the List, and _he_ was the seventh soul William was investigating. Doll hardly got a glance from William, even when she was with one of the others.

 

“Hey,” Harry finally asked on the third night. “Why are we only investigating seven people?”

 

William didn’t look up from his notebook as he wrote down his findings for the day before going to sleep. Harry reached over the side of the bunk and plucked at the Reaper’s hair. That got him a glare.

 

“There’s eight people here on the List,” Harry said, continuing to play with William’s hair. He was safe enough on the top bunk out of reach of a slap-- not out of reach of William’s clippers, but the Reaper would never use those against him anyway. “So how come we’re only investigating seven of them?”

 

William sighed and snapped the notebook closed with a snap. “One of them will die several minutes after all the rest, and so is not included in the mass assignment.” He took his glasses off and moved back, away from Harry’s fingers, to lay down for sleep. “Yet we will still be expected to collect her at the appropriate time-- no matter the overtime put in for all the rest.”

 

“Oh?” Harry let his arm hang down for a minute, then lay back himself.

 

That was sad, wasn’t it? One person left to survive long enough to know everyone else was dead, only to die before she could even do anything? And from what he could tell, the headliners were as close as family, and the circus doctor on the List had made their prosthetics, so he’d been with them for a long time too.

 

The circus was less fun after that.

 

After the first couple days, William had gained a reputation in the circus for being a strange mix of straight-laced seriousness and occult obsession, while Harry gained a reputation for being just a tad mental. It started innocently enough-- no one really thought it was weird to laugh at William muttering about souls and judgment and reports after all. Everyone thought that was sort of funny after a while too.

 

But then Harry had his first episode in this world, and that was when the rest of the circus realized that Harry followed William around because he was being minded. They just misunderstood the reason why.

 

It happened on the fourth day after joining the circus. Harry had already made friends, or at least pleasant acquaintances with pretty much everyone, and was chatting about nothing in particular with some of the second tier acrobats while they all made breakfast together. Harry was stirring a large porridge pot while the other two fried up some sausages and eggs in a couple of pans.

 

Joker and Dagger came up to bid them good morning as they grabbed some food and there were children all around them. Dead children.

 

It was something that happened sometimes, and Harry had no control over it. He would just suddenly see the dead souls who were following the living around. It was another reason Harry tried to hang around the Reapers so much-- the dead didn’t like them, and never seemed to show up if a Reaper was around.

 

But that morning William had been pulled to the other side of the circus, to help to check all the ropes and ladders and trapeze before practice started.

 

There were so, so many. Dozens and dozens of children following the two unknowing headliners, so many of them that there simply wasn’t room for anyone else in the narrow aisle between tents. Their washed out forms overlapped each other and everything else, until even the living people they followed were lost in the crowd of tiny bodies.

 

_Why were there so many?_

 

There were more dead around him now than living, and then he couldn’t even see the few living people beside him, because the dead children had realized he could see them. They eagerly crowded around him, reaching for him, opening their mouths to speak, and Harry froze.

 

The circus folk didn’t know what was wrong with him, just that he’d stopped talking and was staring into empty space with the blankest face they’d seen on him. Joker tried to talk to him, tried shaking him, waved a hand in front of his eyes. No one really knew what to make of him until Dagger realized his hand was resting on the edge of the porridge pot, turning red, and he wasn’t reacting to it at all. They dragged him away and made him sit down, and when he still didn’t react, Joker started shouting.

 

Someone was sent to fetch the Doctor, and another person was sent to find William.

 

The Grim Reaper, when he saw Harry, simply adjusted his glasses and went to stand in front of Harry, blocking his view of everything. After a few minutes, Harry looked up and just stared at him. The ghosts were gone, the Doctor was talking to him as he wrapped wet cloth around his hand, and almost everyone in the whole circus were standing around staring at him worriedly.

 

Harry blinked, then looked at his bandaged hand and flexed his fingers in it. “Ouch,” he said.

 

William sighed and turned to Joker and the rest of the troop. “He’s fine. You’ll have to excuse him, this rarely happens.”

 

Joker let out a relieved sigh of his own and stepped forward to pat Harry on the head. When Harry only looked up at him blankly, then went back to regarding his injured hand, the man turned to William. “What exactly happened ta him?”

 

“I suppose you could say he gets lost,” William said shortly. “He starts seeing ghosts and can’t figure out who’s alive and who’s dead.”

 

“What?” Dagger yelped. “Why the hell does that happen?!”

 

William turned to look at him and adjusted his glasses. “Well, everyone he knows is dead, so when he starts seeing ghosts, he just forgets everything else.”

 

The troop all stared at him, then Harry, most looking worried but some were clearly disturbed. Joker pet Harry’s head like he was a small child, and just watched him sadly.

 

“It’s good a’ya ta stay with him then,” he said, and looked up at William with a soft smile. “Yer a good friend ta have.”

 

William-- boring, expressionless, unflappable William-- looked vaguely affronted and started sputtering, and that, more than anything else, finally helped Harry focus.

 

“Oh my god,” he giggled, and he pointed at the Reaper. “Your face! Hahaha! That’s great, if I’d known compliments were how to get you flustered I’d have done it earlier!”

 

William immediately straightened and adjusted his glasses again, but Harry could see this time he was doing so to hide his face, which was tinged the very slightest of pinks. Joker snorted and gave Harry one last pat.

 

“Well, it’s good ta see yer spirit’s lifted,” Joker said. He gave Harry a gentle grin. “It’s past time fer breakfast ya know?”

 

Harry smiled back, and together with William, they all pretended everything was normal. Except it wasn’t.

 

For the rest of the day, the troop treated Harry either like he was made of glass, or like he had the plague. Both were exceptionally annoying, and Harry dealt with it by ignoring them all, just as William did.

 

Harry could understand how Reapers became so indifferent to life and death. He gave up on living himself after all, that was why he was staying with the Reaper Dispatch in this reality. He shouldn’t have thought going to the living world with a Reaper escort would change anything.

 

He should have stayed at the Reaper Headquarters and resigned himself to boredom.

 

In any case, no one seemed to think it was odd that Harry kept a step behind William after that morning, and by nightfall, even the headliners had shrugged it off and decided to let him be. Possibly, they would have tried to get him to open up again later-- but there were only three days left, and the next morning, there was a new, exciting distraction for everyone to focus on instead.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Harry muttered next to William as they watched Joker start another audition for a kid. A very familiar kid, with a very familiar man who’d accompanied him.

 

“No, it is still there,” William said as he pushed his glasses up. “You can clean your glasses off all you like, but that smudge will still be there.”

 

“What do you suppose they’re doing here?” Harry asked as he picked up the pan of eggs he was making and wandered a little closer, trying to see while he stirred the scramble.

 

The kid was trying to throw knives, very badly and falling meters short of the target, yet Harry could hear the thunk of each knife hitting the target anyway. Harry suspected the demon was doing something, but with the crowd in the way, and being much farther back near the tents, he couldn’t see how.

 

“Hopefully, it is not here to feed.” William turned back to the potatoes and carrots he was boiling.

 

“Yikes.” A hungry demon was something Harry had encountered only a few times in his existence, and he was always lucky enough to either not be too close, or to die before the demon reached him. He didn’t particularly want to be around if this demon really was looking for food.

 

“Why would they need to join the circus before eating though?” Harry wondered as they watched Joker lead the kid and demon into the big tent. They must have passed the knife throwing test, but Harry had learned that everyone was expected to pass some kind of height or balance test before admission. If he’d picked anything other than the high wire, he and William would have had to do it anyway.

 

“Who knows how a demon’s mind works,” William said with a derisive sneer. He turned and began setting out the day’s breakfast bread as troop members came up for their food. “Perhaps this is some game to him. We shall have to be careful, and keep an eye on it regardless.”

 

Harry nodded slowly, still watching the entrance to the big tent where the kid and demon had disappeared. He finally turned to dish the eggs out on plates and figured they would find out soon enough.

 

Later that day, Harry and William were in the main tent “practicing” on the high wire when the kid and demon were led in by Joker. Their clothes had been changed to circus wear-- sort of. The demon was still all in black, but the boy was dressed more colorfully. It seemed they had finished the tour and were now third tier members as well.

 

William seemed to be pretending they didn’t exist, though Harry was sure he was actually focused quite intensely on the demon, given the way he slowed down and had his head cocked as if listening to something just out of range. Harry, however, decided to just go ahead and stare.

 

When the demon started messing around, jumping from trampolines to juggling to poles to contortions, and doing everything perfectly, Harry rolled his eyes and lay down on the rope. Honestly, when they weren’t being terrifying, demons were so boring. He would just take a nap until William decided how to handle this.

 

Of course, that had to be when Dagger finally pointed them out. William was still walking calmly along the high wire, and stepped carefully past Harry’s lounging form as he did. The Reaper may have been avoiding confrontation by pretending to ignore the demon, but with everyone’s attention on him, he leapt quite eagerly down to challenge the creature.

 

Harry watched from his perch as the Reaper loudly declared the man before him was a demon and closed his eyes with a wince. Seriously, why did Reapers even pretend to have “human integration” classes if they were going to completely ignore normal behavior? He supposed that this was just a sign of how despised demons were, that even by-the-book William would lose his cool.

 

He sat up on the rope, balanced so his legs dangled off one side as if he was sitting on a ledge, and watched as William got laughed at and everyone went back to practice. The demon glanced up at him briefly before turning to listen to the kid beside him. Then Dagger suddenly dragged the boy off to the side for knife practice, and the demon went to drag William outside.

 

Harry bounced back to his feet with a worried frown and headed for the ladder. As much as he didn’t want to fight a demon, he couldn’t leave his poor Reaper babysitter to face it alone.

 

He found them out the back of the tent and behind the carriages, chatting about the List event coming up being the reason for William investigating.

 

“Well, if it’s alright to just tell people what we’re doing,” Harry said as he stopped nearby and crossed his arms, “how come I got lectured by three different Administrative Officers on the importance of secrecy and blending in?”

 

William glanced at him and sniffed. “This is a special circumstance.”

 

“Oh, so demons are special now?”

 

William looked disgusted, but the demon laughed.

 

“It would appear I am,” he gave William a sly look. “Since being collared makes me so much more bearable as to warrant _special_ treatment.”

 

“Collared dogs are usually better behaved if their masters know to stay safely out of the way,” William said darkly. “I expect you to inform your master not to interfere with my business.”

 

“I expect you can tell me yourself,” a cold voice snapped behind Harry.

 

He turned to find the boy stalking toward them all with a glower. Or, no, the boy was heading directly for him, and stopped before him with a furious glare.

 

“You,” he snarled.

 

Harry blinked and pointed at his face. “Me?” He looked worriedly from the kid, to the demon, to William. “What did I do?”

 

“You-!” The boy visibly reigned himself in, bit his lip and turned his glare to the ground. When he looked up again, his gaze was cool. “You brought Aunt An back to life. _How?_ ”

 

“Uh, no.” Harry frowned down at the kid. He should have expected this kind of interest from a demon summoner, even if he was a child. “I absolutely did not.”

 

The boy bared his teeth in a silent snarl, and even William let out a disbelieving snort. Harry glared at them both, as well as the demon who chuckled quietly into a gloved fist.

 

“She. Was. _Dead!_ ” the boy bit out slowly.

 

Harry held up a finger and leaned toward the kid with a serious face. “She. Was. _Dying!_ ” He stood straight while the boy’s face flushed with rage at being mocked, and shook his head sadly. “There is a whole world of difference between those. No one can bring the dead back to life, kid.”

 

“I think you are splitting hairs rather fine there,” the demon said. When Harry turned to look at him, he smirked and his eyes almost seemed to glow. “Her Cinematic Reel was already playing, and isn’t that a sign that a life is at its end?”

 

“Only because Reapers are too afraid to judge anyone as worthy of continuing to live,” Harry said.

 

William snapped his clippers closed and frowned severely at him. “ _No_ one is worthy of having a second chance at life,” he said.

 

“See?” Harry said with a shrug.

 

The boy merely gave him another nasty look, then apparently decided to ignore him for the time being, and turned to William.

 

“I do hope you will refrain from drawing attention to us in the future,” he said as he crossed his arms and glared up at the Reaper. “It was lucky everyone decided to take your words for a joke, but your inability to blend in with normal people is shamefully sub-par when compared to certain _ginger_ members of your group.”

 

The only sign William was in any way offended was his twitching eyebrow. Although, in Harry’s experience, that eyebrow signaled all manner of negative emotions, so who knew if the boy’s words actually had any effect.

 

“Indeed,” the demon said as he gave William a sly look from under his long lashes. “How about we simply agree to stay out of each other’s way? We won’t interfere with your business, and you won’t interfere with ours?”

 

William gave him an icy look. “Excellent, considering I cannot stand the sight of you,” he said flatly.

 

“Then we’re agreed,” the boy said, and placed a hand on his waist before eyeing William like he was slime caught on the bottom of his shoe. “We’ll each stay out of the other’s way.”

 

The boy, the Reaper, and the demon glared at whoever they seemed to dislike most. William and the demon stared daggers into each other, and the boy glared angrily at William, although, his gaze drifted resentfully toward Harry as well.

 

“Wow,” Harry said under his breath. “It’s like going through primary all over again….”

 

The boy turned to him, teeth clenched so hard the sound of his anger couldn’t come out as more than a hiss. Before he could lash out though, William stepped forward.

 

“In that case, Smile, please do keep your dog on a tight leash. I won’t abide any overtime.”

 

“I don’t need to hear any more from two four-eyes who can’t even disguise themselves in a freak show,” the boy said with a mean smirk. Clearly he thought trading insults was enough to give him the upper hand.

 

“I am not Four-eyes,” William said seriously. He pushed his glasses up and proudly declared, “I am Suit!”

 

Harry burst out laughing. “You sure are! Haha, Joker’s pretty good at picking names to _suit_ people, isn’t he?”

 

“That was pathetic,” the boy said with a sneer. He looked incredibly annoyed at their responses. “I suppose then you’re called Dunce or some such?”

 

Harry gave the boy a sad smile. He was quite naive for a demon summoner, to think schoolyard names could do any damage to him, but then, it seemed _he_ was very uncomfortable with the name ‘Smile’ so maybe he couldn’t help projecting. Certainly, smiling at the boy upset him far more than anything else Harry had said or done so far.

 

“Nope! I am called--” Harry twirled around on one foot, then hopped to balance on the other. He raised both hands up with his fingers curled and held them out playfully. “--Cat!”

 

The dramatic proclamation was met with silence. Both boy and demon were looking at him, mildly shocked.

 

“Meow!” Harry added, waving one ‘paw’ at them.

 

Poor Smile… he looked like he regretted everything that had led to this conversation, and the demon…he looked like he was going to choke trying so hard not to laugh.

 

“Enough of this! Just stay out of our way,” the boy said angrily and turned away. “Let’s go Sebastian!”

 

The demon snickered, and gave Harry one last amused look before turning to follow his master.

 

William watched them both walk off blankly. Harry let his hands fall to his sides. This was going to be a long three days.

 

* * *

 

That night seemed to fly by with how distracted Harry was while he worked backstage. He stayed close to William as they moved stage props, brought water, fetched costumes, and ran for whatever other errands suddenly came up during the show. It was all pretty typical, and easy to follow after the fourth day of doing it all, but now there was a demon and contractor in the mix of people. Harry didn’t know what to make of them anymore.

 

He hadn’t really thought much about them after that night when he met them and Grell Sutcliff for the first time, hadn’t considered that he might ever run into them again. But now he could feel the tension running through his Reaper babysitter. William was worried the demon would steal the souls he was investigating.

 

Harry had never fought a demon before. He had more experience with demons than most humans could boast, and he’d even been killed by one once. He’d seen some enter a feeding frenzy from afar too, and even at a distance the evil aura of a rampaging demon was smothering.

 

But fighting demons? Somehow he’d never actually done that before. He had no idea how his powers as Master of Death, or as a wizard really, compared to a demon’s.

 

While he was distractedly sorting knives pulled out from Dagger’s target, Joker came up to him, breathless from running off stage after announcing the next act.

 

“Ah! Cat~” Joker tapped Harry carefully on the shoulder. “Quick question for ya, m’dearie!”

 

Harry turned to him quizzically. “What is it?”

 

“Would ya and Suit mind terribly sharing yer tent wit’ a new border?” Joker asked with a wide grin.

 

Harry blinked and tilted his head. “Does one of us have to share a bed?”

 

“No, no, no!” Joker laughed and waved his bone hand wildly. “We’ll move a new bed in too! Just need ta shift some stuff around an’ yer tent’ll house three instead a’ two!” He smiled gently at Harry. “Is that alright w’ya?”

 

“Sure,” Harry shrugged. “I don’t mind. I don’t think William will either.”

 

“Perfect!” Joker clapped him on the shoulder with a grin, then ran off.

 

It was only when Harry turned back to sorting the knives that he ran over the conversation and realized what he’d just agreed to.

 

“Oh shit,” he said his eyes wide in horror.

 

Well, Joker said just _one_ new border would join them, and there were two of them, so it was a fifty-fifty chance they’d get the kid. Right?

 

After the show and clean-up for the night was finally done, Harry joined William and Joker who waved for them to follow him. They met up with Smile and his demon, then after Joker made sure they were all introduced-- the demon was called Black apparently-- they were joined by Dagger and Doll, who was dressed like a new member for some reason.

 

When Joker assigned Smile to “Freckle’s” tent, Harry let his head fall into his hands with a silent groan. _Oh, Merlin._ William would never forgive him!

 

Indeed, the moment Joker happily assigned Black to Harry and William’s tent, both Reaper and demon froze in absolute horror, unable to do more than stare at one another in hateful shock. Even Smile, who’d been trying to argue against his assignment, fell silent at the sudden tension in the air.

 

Somehow, Joker and Dagger both managed to laugh it off. Harry wasn’t sure if they were truly oblivious to the danger buzzing around the inhuman beings, or if they simply didn’t care. They did wander off faster than usual though, leaving the various newbies (and Doll) standing around awkwardly.

 

Harry decided the best thing to do was to just go to bed, so that’s what he did. It seemed to be enough of a signal to get everyone else moving at least. The tent he and William shared was near the end of the row of shared tents, and Smile and Doll-- still going by Freckles-- were right across from them.

 

As soon as Harry entered their tent, he saw what Joker had meant by adding a bed. The ladder to get to the top bunk where Harry slept had been moved from the end of the beds over to the side. At the foot of the bunk was a new mattress and wood frame set on the ground. The chest and boxes once stored there had been shoved to the opposite side of the tent entrance, making a narrower path in.

 

Harry sighed and climbed up to his bunk to lay down until he fell asleep. But, just as he’d thought, William and Sebastian started sniping at each other before doing the same.

 

“This,” William said with a sniff, “is my side.” The sound of something dragging through the dirt went along with his tirade. “You will stay out of my territory, agreed?”

 

“Understood,” the demon said simply. His disinterested tone had a dark edge to it though, so Harry assumed he was glaring.

 

William muttered complaints to himself in response, and it sounded like he was retracing whatever line he’d made in the dirt.

 

“I hope you realize that Reapers require sleep,” William said suddenly. “Just because demons do not, you had better not disturb my rest.”

 

Black huffed and turned to sit on the extra bed. “Demons do enjoy sleeping once in a while as a luxury,” he admitted, though he didn’t sound terribly enthusiastic about it.

 

“I hope both of you will be quiet at some point,” Harry said under his breath. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

 

Naturally, with Harry’s luck, both of them heard him and did in fact fall silent. He imagined that, for one brief moment, they were united in their shared annoyance with him, then rustling started up as William changed for bed, and the demon took off his coat and lay down.

 

Harry wrapped the thin blanket around himself and huddled in the middle of his mattress. Yeah, it was going to be a long three days.

 

* * *

 

Soft talking and the harsh click of metal striking metal woke Harry from a dreamless sleep. He considered just turning over and trying to fall back asleep, but now that he was awake his bladder felt full to bursting. He groaned and got up, swung himself over the side of the bed and staggered out of the tent for the loo.

 

“I see you are completely impartial in who you discipline for disturbing your rest by wandering around,” the demon said as Harry left.

 

He was outside before he could hear William’s response.

 

When he came back, Harry was so groggy he forgot the arrangement of the tent had been changed, and rather than going to the side of the bunk beds to climb up, he went to where the ladder used to be at the end. Not being able to see in the dark and still half asleep, he walked right into the bed shoved into the corner, banging into it with his shins and falling face first onto the damn thing.

 

Harry’s head smacked almost perfectly on the far edge of the wood frame, and his stomach landed on the demon’s head, who immediately twisted and jabbed his shoulder up into him, knocking his breath out. He ended up on his side, clutching his forehead and curled around his sore middle as he cursed under his breath.

 

Black rolled Harry off his chest as he sat up, grabbed his hair and yanked hard. Harry yelped but before he could do anything else, William’s clippers shot out and nicked the edge of the demon’s sleeve as it jerked quickly out of the way. Harry, no longer being held up by his hair, fell back down, half in Black’s lap and half on the mattress.

 

“You utter, utter _shoelace_ ,” Harry mumbled darkly into the blanket.

 

“Blaming me for your mistake?” the demon said. The only part of him Harry could see when he turned to look over his shoulder at the creature, were a pair of softly glowing eyes, narrowed to angry slits as they stared at him. “How typical of a creature like you.”

 

“Please do cease your antagonistic ramblings,” William said as he retracted his clippers with a snap. “I have yet to get an adequate amount of sleep due to your constant disturbances.”

 

“Your fellow here was the one causing a disturbance,” the demon said flatly, his glowing eyes turned their glare onto the Reaper. “You allowed him to clumsily wander about until he fell on me.”

 

“You two idiots arguing woke me up in the first place,” Harry said. His head still throbbed some, but most of the pain had faded, even his stomach was feeling better. “Of course I’m gonna forget where the damn ladder is when I’m this exhausted.”

 

“I was simply stopping that beast from wandering around unescorted,” William said as he returned the demon’s glare evenly. “If he were not such a danger to the souls around us, there would have been no need to.”

 

“So it is still my fault again?” Black said.

 

“How about it’s everyone’s fault, and you’re a damned spoon,” Harry said. He pushed himself up, carefully rubbing his stomach. William snorted and sat back down on his bed, though he kept his glasses on and his clipper staff across his knees.

 

Red eyes turned back to him, and Harry realized the demon was still laying down, only propped up on his elbows and Harry was straddling his hips. Black regarded him coolly, eyes still glowing red and frightful in the dark, but slowly Harry’s own eyes adjusted to their light enough to see.

 

“I’ll accept the damned part, but I find I must question the _spoon_ ,” the demon said seriously.

 

Harry looked at him, uncertain if he was being mocked or not. “You're pretty weird for a demon.”

 

“You meet many demons, then?” Black asked, an eyebrow raised doubtfully.

 

“Not exactly.” And not in this world, Harry didn’t say. It occurred to him that he may be wrong-- Black could be a completely average demon for this reality, and it was only Harry’s perspective that was off.

 

“Then why would I be in any way peculiar for my kind?” Black smirked suddenly. “Perhaps, like your friend, you thought I would be uncontrollably tearing into every soul within reach?” The smirk turned a little sharper. “I have high standards for my meal-- giving into hunger for any average soul would be boring.”

 

“Then,” Harry frowned in thought, “this _isn’t_ boring?”

 

The demon blinked, then gestured toward him with an arrogant sneer. “This?” he repeated questioningly.

 

Harry jerked back, face turning red, and sat back on Black’s thighs. “No! I meant-- _this_ ,” he waved at the tent around them. “Joining the circus, pretending to have fun jumping around and making people smile.” Harry looked back at the demon, confused. “Is that really not boring?”

 

The demon looked surprised for a moment. Then he smiled and slowly sat up.

 

“Certainly, entertaining humans is not something I particularly enjoy doing,” he said. “But tricking so many, and following my master’s ridiculous orders to the extent it even shocks him--” he gave a careless shrug, “I would hardly call it boring.”

 

“I... really don’t understand demons,” Harry said quietly. “You can live so long, and don’t care about anyone. How can you _not_ possibly be bored by everything?”

 

Now the demon was truly surprised, and stared at him as if he didn’t understand Harry either. He recovered quickly though, and leaned forward, eyes curved with a dark pleasure and shining evilly.

 

“Does this world bore you, little one?” The demon wrapped his long arms around Harry before he had a chance to pull back, and held him tight. “Do the living bore you, so much you look for your entertainment at the side of Reapers bringing those pitiful lives to an end?”

 

“What?” Harry tried to lean away but the demon’s arms were like iron bands.

“What other reason would a creature like you have for playing around with Grim Reapers?” the demon said, smirking smugly.

 

“I… a creature like me?” Harry went still in confusion.

 

“No need to play coy,” the demon chuckled. “But, unlike you, I’ve no interest in playing guessing games. I do wonder though what sort of being would spend their time with Reapers of all things-- particularly if humanity bores you so.”

 

“I-- what, I am a--” Harry tried to say, but without warning he was suddenly bent backward, Black bent over on top of him and glaring over his shoulder.

 

“I am still waiting for you to be quiet so I might go to sleep,” William said coldly. His clippers retracted back to him from the space just above where Black’s head had been. “If you have any questions, you can wait to ask them in the morning.”

 

“Ah, sorry, William,” Harry said. He tried to pry Black’s hands off him and wiggled to the edge of the bed.

 

The demon sneered, but let him go. Harry felt those red eyes follow him up to his bunk and even after his lay down and wrapped himself up in the blanket again. It was foolish, letting himself get drawn in by anything a demon said, yet Harry couldn’t help but think on his words.

 

First, that Black really wasn’t bored, when Harry had only been on this world for four days before he got tired of everything. Was it because of the creature’s inherent cruelty, his ability to find amusement in manipulating people who didn’t know better, or was there something else? Something that didn’t come from evil intentions?

 

Second…the demon thought he wasn’t human. Harry knew he had powers thanks to the Hallows, powers that allowed him to move like Reapers and hide away in their spaces between death and the living world, but…. Could that really have made him into something not human?

 

It was a long time before Harry was able to fall asleep again.

 


End file.
